MISS MANNERS

Computers are nice, but at what price?

`That was back before Mama got TV," we used to say, half a century ago, to account for the disappearance of daily luxuries that had been long taken for granted.

It is no longer a question of yearning for homemade pie or hand-ironed shirts. There are more basic social luxuries that we have lost, Miss Manners is sorry to report, ever since Mama, Papa, Grandma, Grandpa and all the little children went online.

Appearances to the contrary, Miss Manners is not usually one to brood over the past. She appreciates all the good things we have gained through technology. The vast human community has never been closer. All anyone has to do, anywhere in the world, to gain universal understanding and sympathy, is to wail, "My hard disk crashed, and I lost everything."

But that is a different sort of "everything." Here are a few of the pre-computer things we have lost:

Adult authority. Parents used to be able to maintain an aura of superiority over their children, for a few years at least, because they were bigger and had more money, which meant that they had the power of dispensing favors. Now we have the sorry spectacle of grown-up people begging their little ones to help them out of the computer difficulties they always seem to be getting themselves into. For a while there, they were also congratulating their children on beginning salaries larger than the ones on which they had retired.

Credibility. It isn't just computer technology and dexterity as a whole new area in which anyone's ignorance can be glaringly exposed that deflates adults. Claims to other knowledge can be instantly and authoritatively contested by anyone in possession of a mouse. When the choice was believing what was said or consulting reference books, people were willing to let approximate knowledge pass. The ease and speed of ascertaining facts has ruined that.

Joke-telling. There is really no point any more in asking, "Have you heard this one?" Any joke, however pointless itself, has already been forwarded around the world.

Innocent gossip. Miss Manners knows that everyone else believes there is no such thing, and never dreams of listening to or repeating what other people are doing. Everyone else discusses only abstract ideas.

Nevertheless, recounting anecdotes about people we know or know about, and speculating on motives and consequences, is the way knowledge of human behavior itself is passed on. If it is done viciously, gossip deserves its dreadful reputation. Spreading lies or putting out true but damaging information for the purpose of hurting others is shocking. But that need not characterize those semi-private exchanges of stories and theories among friends about who might be getting married or divorced, or among colleagues about who might be getting promoted or fired.

When these sessions moved from the back fence or the water cooler to the computer, however, they lost their innocence. E-mail automatically makes any gossip damaging, because of its immense uncontrollable circulation. Talking about people on e-mail turns whispers into public broadcasts.

Progress has given us a world in which the polite person refrains from uttering anything that is not strictly accurate, fresh and circumspect. But it has also given us something to take up the time formerly spent in spontaneous chatter. It has given us computer games.

Dear Miss Manners: My partner, a person of genuine taste, has me confused, because she insists it is proper for the top of the lid of the toilet to remain raised, a sign of hospitality. This strikes me as a bit distasteful. I've always thought closing the top lid of the toilet was the better part of discretion.

Gentle Reader: A sign of hospitality? You mean, like a welcome mat?

Miss Manners doesn't know what your partner is thinking, but hopes she will stop. That guests sometimes have to excuse themselves is a fact of life. We have no evidence that they derive comfort from believing that their hosts are pleased to recognize this fact.